


Time Off

by Telesilla



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Consent Play, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-28
Updated: 2006-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night of Orlando's vacation isn't what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Off

**Author's Note:**

> If you're dubious about the premise, see the spoiler notes at the end.

"Out!"

Orlando blinked, sure he was dreaming. "Huh?" he mumbled, bringing a hand up to shade his eyes from the bright light shining on him.

Slowly it came back: the post-Pirates vacation Viggo had promised him, the driver meeting him at the airport because they hadn't wanted to greet each other in public, falling asleep lulled by the sound of pavement under wheels and the dark night wrapped around the car.

"'S bright turn it...." His voice trailed off as a hand reached into the back of the car and gripped his arm. "What the fuck? Get off me!"

"Shut up," a hard voice said. Orlando leaned forward trying to peer past the light and then shrank back when he saw the barrel of a gun pointing at him. Fear, real fear and not the kind he felt when jumping from a plane, gripped him and he started to shake. "Right," the voice said. "Out of the car."

Orlando obeyed, his head spinning. He hated giving in so meekly, but he wasn't Legolas or Balian or Todd or even Will Turner, and no one was going to yell "cut" at the end of this. He tried to stare past the light, but when his eyes adjusted all he could see were a couple of huge, Uruk-Hai-sized guys wearing ski masks.

"Don't mess him up," one of them said while the other handcuffed his hands behind him. "The client doesn't want that."

"Can't hurt the pretty boy's face," the first one said as he pulled a very well made blindfold over Orlando's face.

_Client? What the fuck?_ Orlando struggled against the cuffs, a little too freaked out to appreciate the irony of being unable to reach the universal handcuff key hanging with the rest of his charms around his throat.

But there was something else nagging at him, something tickling at the back of his brain, there in the little part of him that wasn't utterly, fucking terrified. He tried to dig deep in order to track it down, but the effort was interrupted as he was shoved forward, made to walk across what sounded like gravel into a huge echoing space.

"What are you doing with me?" he demanded, a little surprised when his voice sounded far steadier than he felt.

"You'll find out soon enough," one of the men replied, shoving Orlando against something hard. He lost his balance and sprawled forward, slamming his hips against an edge. Before he could regain his balance, a hand the size of a dinner plate pushed him over some cold surface, a counter or a table top of some kind.

It was only as thick rope was threaded under his arms but across his back that Orlando grasped the situation he found himself in. That nagging feeling was back and it got stronger as the rope was secured somehow, leaving him bent at the hips, his chest pressed hard against the table. To make his predicament even clearer, his ankles were kicked apart. He struggled hard at that, getting in at least one good kick before hard steel was locked around each ankle, leaving his legs spread.

"Hope he gives it to you good," one of the men said, slapping Orlando on the ass. He heard them walking away and almost wished they weren't leaving him alone to face....

The sound of a match striking caught his attention. The person was close; Orlando could hear the flare as the match caught and then he heard a deep breath. A second later, he could smell cigarette smoke as it drifted toward him, and something about the roughness of the smoke triggered that same nagging feeling that he'd had earlier, only now he knew what it was.

"Please," he said, finally letting the real fear he'd been feeling show in his voice. "Please...you know who I am...I've got money."

The only answer he got was a firm hand running up one of his legs. In spite of his determination not to play the helpless heroine, he managed a pretty good yell of surprise. There was no answer, but he heard a faint metallic click that he couldn't figure out until he felt a weird pull on his jeans and cold metal touched his bare leg.

_A knife? Oh fuck...._ As he listened he realized that he'd been wrong and that the man--surely no woman would smoke cigarettes that were that strong--was using a pair of scissors. Orlando went still as the scissors moved up his leg and then up the side of his hip until they cut through his waistband. His belt was roughly unbuckled and then the other leg of his jeans was attacked, leaving Orlando bare-assed.

_I guess I picked the wrong day to go commando,_ he thought with a slightly hysterical laugh. The sound was met by a sharp slap to his ass and then, in the unnerving silence following the slap, Orlando heard the sound of a zipper.

"Please," he begged, thrashing as much as possible now that there weren't sharp objects near his skin. "Oh God...please don't...I can't...you can't...please...."

He assumed that he was supposed to be relieved when he heard he familiar sound of a condom package being ripped open, but it really didn't help much. "Please," he said, his voice shaking now. "Please, please don't...."

He fell silent as a pair of gloved hands spread him open. There was no stopping this now and he gritted his teeth. _It's not me,_ he told himself and then winced, realizing he'd read that somewhere and what in hell was he doing remembering it now because it was shite this _was_ him and he was about to be raped here and....

It hurt, even more than Orlando had expected, and he gave a shrill yell--almost a scream really--as that hard cock shoved its way inside him. He had a moment to speculate dimly that the guy was at least using a lubed condom, and then his assailant was pulling back and slamming in again while Orlando cried out and twisted under him.

The guy had stamina and it got a little easier after the first few minutes. It still hurt like fuck, but through the pain, Orlando could feel something else going on. "No...oh fuck no...please don't make me...." _Like it...._

Because he did. Even as he fought the feeling, the man behind him shifted a little. The cry Orlando gave out as that thick cock went into him at just the right angle, was more about enjoyment than pain, and he could feel his own cock getting hard against the metal table.

"Yeah?" the man growled. "Knew you'd like it, you filthy little pervert. Trying to be a hero but you're just another fucking pansy who likes a hard dick up his ass, aren't you? You're a little faggot boy and you need a big ol' daddy to just fuck the hell out of that pretty faggot ass."

The faint bit of tension remaining in Orlando melted out of him with those words, although he still fought hard. "No! I'm not like that...you bastard! I'm not!"

"Yes, you are." The man rested one hand on Orlando's cuffed wrists and grabbed Orlando's hair with the other. "You're fucking ripe for it. That why you look at all the men in your movies the way you do. Did Sean Bean fuck you like this? Did you spread these pretty cheeks for Viggo? How about all those soldier boys? Bet you let 'em line up and fuck you just like a pack of dogs on a bitch."

"No!" Orlando moaned, his wrists twisting in the cuffs.

"I hear Neeson's got a huge cock; did you let him shove it up your ass? And everyone knows Depp's a fucking queer and that faggot in the wig...bet you let them both fuck you. I should have brought a friend, let him have your queer boy mouth. Or can you take two cocks at once?"

Orlando groaned, his body fighting to push back against the man behind him. "Please...please...don't...oh God...please!" The man bent, nuzzling Orlando's collar aside, his breath hot on Orlando's skin. He bit down hard, and Orlando cried out. "Please...need... pleasepleasepleasse."

"Come for me, bitch."

The man shoved in once more and then once again, and Orlando let out a yell as he came, come soaking into his shirt. The man didn't stop, continuing to fuck Orlando through the end of his orgasm, before pulling out abruptly. Orlando could hear him moving and then a hand grabbed his hair and he heard the sound of a condom being pulled off.

"Gonna come all over your pretty face, faggot," the man growled and Orlando blinked as the blindfold was pulled off. He saw a cock in front of him, held in a hand gloved in black leather. Knowing what was about to happen, Orlando closed his eyes. To his surprise one of those gloved hands slapped his face hard. "Open your fucking mouth."

"Please," Orlando said as he obeyed. A moment later he heard a low groan and felt the first splash of come across his face. It was followed by several more and Orlando shivered as he heard another moan.

"God...oh God, Orlando." Gentle hands undid the cuffs at Orlando's wrists and then the one at his ankles. The rope was pulled free and then Orlando's wrists were being carefully rubbed. "Are you all right? That wasn't too...."

"Bloody hell, Viggo," Orlando said, rolling over and wincing a little at the clammy feel of his t-shirt against his stomach and chest. He stripped it off and mopped his face with the relatively dry back. "It was fucking perfect." He finally met Viggo's eyes and smiled. Sitting up, Orlando rested a hand on Viggo's face. "That was hard for you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Viggo says. "The rough stuff isn't a problem, but the humiliation...."

"Thank you," Orlando said. "Thank you for pushing yourself for me. I was genuinely frightened until I smelled you on the blindfold and even then I almost totally sure until you lit up one of those damn rollies of yours. It was really, really good, and your words were what made it work for me."

"Please," Viggo murmured, going down onto his knees on the concrete floor of what looked like a warehouse.

"Anything you want," Orlando said, reaching out to slide his fingers through Viggo's hair. "Anything at all."

"Please," Viggo said, his posture becoming more formal. "Please let me take care of you for the rest of this vacation."

_God, he's good,_ Orlando thought, not for the first time.

"Of course, boy," he replied. "Right now I want to get to wherever we're staying and have a shower and a drink. And I want you in bed with me, where you belong."

"Thank you, Sir," Viggo said, his voice still soft and deferential. "I've got a change of clothes for you and the car's waiting outside."

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This looks a lot like rape, but it's actually consent play.
> 
> This was written for [](http://ravenna-c-tan.livejournal.com/profile)[**ravenna_c_tan**](http://ravenna-c-tan.livejournal.com/) who requested "On Vacation Orlando" from my [28 Fic Meme](http://telesilla.livejournal.com/417612.html) list. Like many of the other people who asked for stuff, I'm not sure this is what she expected. It certainly went longer than I expected it to, which is why it's here and not in the comments.


End file.
